A New Order
by rozziechan
Summary: Post first season. The Heroes we know are still looking for answers as well as others like themselves but something bigger than fate could intervene.
1. A Distinct Absence of Sound

**Author's Note:** First ever fic of mine to be added to ff.. I guess I just took forever to pluck up the courage.. I have a vague idea where this is headed.. but it's not completely set in stone.. sooooo bare with me!! Enjoy it.. and if it sucks too badly.. then errr lemme know!! Rating set for future refrences.. I may however change it..

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Heroes or anything to do with them.. unfortunately.. Tom Kring and all those awesome people do.. I do, however, own a pet that looks remarkably like Peter Petrelli which I keep in my cupboard.. heee.

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_**Chapter 1:** Distinct Absence of Sound_

Silence.. nothing could be heard aside from the voices on the inside of his head, plaguing his existence with their incessant rambling of menial things.. outwardly, had someone dropped a pin it would have rattled the walls with its noise, the clattering of metal on concrete in such stifling stillness, the air thick with anticipation.. it would cause a hurricane in the west Indies.. what was it they said?? The flutter of a butterfly's wings was enough to cause a typhoon on the other side of the world?? He didn't doubt that now.. the vibrations of this aching chasm where sound should have been were enough to give him a headache, to make him feel as though his skull were shattering into a thousand razor sharp splinters, piercing his senses until he could see nothing but blind spots on the back of his eyelids..

Three months had passed since that rude awakening, the part in his life where everything changed.. he had been destined for greater things, to fight the good fight, without ever knowing why.. what was it about him.. about them.. which made them so special?? What could possibly have been so exceptional about them which made them so extraordinary?? It extended further than simple genetics, the strands of one's DNA, who their parents were. It was a puzzle with huge gaping holes where pieces had been lost, gone, along with the people who's faces were embellished onto their surface, carrying with them secrets and answers to questions he feared would never be asked now that they were gone.

He raised one of his hands to his face, the other resting beneath his head which lay upon the plush pillow, eyes scouring over the texture of his skin, balling his fist up before relinquishing the tightness once more, a frown setting in on handsome, dark and brooding features, chocolate brown eyes confused and uncertain, a trace of regret lingering within the pupils which studied his flesh so eagerly.

He looked like them, talked and walked like them.. and yet he felt as though he roamed these cavernous streets and alleys with a sign stuck to his back, mocking himself in a fashion which left him wallowing in something akin to schizophrenic paranoia. Peopled laughed at him.. the guy who walked around with his shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world rested upon his broad frame, without a care for the people which surrounded him.. without a smile for any single human being he came into contact with.. save for perhaps his confidante.. his light at the end of the tunnel.. someone who shared his grief, his sorrow and his secrets.. his niece.. his Claire.. it seemed like fate had flung them together, eternally bound not just by blood ties and his brother's teenage hormones.. but by destiny.. by purpose.

He sighed heavily, suddenly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the hand he had been so captured by, but the moment for contemplation was gone, brushed aside in a sudden blur of images and sounds, the rushing of footsteps towards his apartment door, the sudden clinking of the key in the lock, the creaking of the hinges and a happy, bright face peering into his kitchen, where she stood in clear sight of him from where he lay on the comfortable couch in his open doored living room, her blonde tousled locks falling into the line of view of her blue orbs.

"Hey Uncle Pete.." she chirped, her voice all sweetness and light, like fluffy clouds and candy floss as she swiftly shut the door behind her, bounding into his sitting room and suddenly crashing down on the floor in a hyperactive manner as she perched herself upon the ground, her legs crossed, her black leather satchel bag still hugging her torso as she wore it's strap diagonally across her form, a thin white swing jacket thrown on top of a pale blue tee, low slung jeans and ugg boots.

"Uncle Pete.." he mused, turning the words over in his mouth, allowing them to play on his tongue for a moment. He found it strange to hear her call him that.. but it fit snugly inside him, deep within the confines of his chest, somewhere close to his heart. "Now I feel old.." he finished, finally allowing himself to break from his stupor and grace her with a smile, his mouth twitching up at one corner, revealing a classically nonchalant and lazy manner about it, a lopsided and crooked boyish grin which made him seem a million times more starry eyed and bright than he had only moments before. He sat up, tossing his legs over the side of the couch, allowing bare feet to hit the wooden parchet flooring which decorated his stylish and bachelor-pad-obvious sitting room. He caulked his head to the side, studying her features as she studied him, his back leaning against the couch, his hands laying in his lap, fingers clasped together, that same thoughtful look on his face as before, when he'd been studying his own hand.

"What?" she asked him cautiously, her eyes narrowing slightly as her lips hitched up in a inquisitive smirk. "What? Do I have something in my teeth?" she asked, almost embarrassed, raising her fingers to her mouth a moment as he let out a low chuckle. He still couldn't quite believe that the cheerleader he'd saved, the one all the way back in Odessa, Texas had turned out to be more involved in his life than he had even contemplated was possible.

_'Save the cheerleader.. save the world..'_

What Future Hiro really should have said was 'save the cheerleader.. save yourself.' Without having absorbed Claire's and Sylar's powers the night he encountered the both of them, Peter would surely not have been alive. If Sylar hadn't killed him, then, without a shadow of a doubt in his mind, knowing the certainty of it more than anything else in his muddled and confused life, Ted's power would have swallowed him whole, consuming him from the inside out.

"Not at all.." he commented, finally standing up and moving about the coffee table which stood between them, standing to the side of her a moment before slumping down to place a loving kiss atop her crown of golden locks, moving off again before even uttering a good morning, reaching for his coffee maker to make a substance which would make him feel a little more alive and awake. "You're early.." he shrugged, his hand reaching for the coffee jar as he watched her still from the kitchen.

She craned her neck to look at him before eventually giving up the chase and standing up again, walking into the kitchen as she swung the strap of her bag over her head, dropping it on a nearby Easy chair which her uncle seemed so fond of. She shrugged a shoulder as she perched herself upon the bar stool facing him, her hands clasped in her lap as she raised her feet to place them upon the rail ring encompassing the four legs of her seat.

"Maybe you're just running late.." she offered with a cocky grin, a mischievous glint in her eye which reminded him so much of his brother, Nathan.. Nathan. The thought made his stomach clench a second, his breath caught momentarily in his chest as he allowed himself to simply stare at her unabashedly, his eyes glazed over by the sudden realisation that she was his brother's daughter, in every sense of the word. He tore his gaze away, his attempt at concealing the fact that he may falter, as he hitched up his lips in that classic Petrelli manner, that debonair charm which traced soft pillows of flesh, only one of the corners tucked up in a smirk, his nimble hands reaching into a cupboard to the left of his head for a mug to pour his coffee into.

"No.. you're definitely early." He stated in a matter of fact manner, his gaze playfully reproachful as he dipped down his head, half watching himself pour the warm draught of the living into his mug, the swirling black colour and pungent odour rising to his nostrils, and half watching his niece, who seemed a little too big for her own fluffy ugg boots this morning.

"I thought we could maybe stop at Starbuck's on the way.. get ourselves a mocha and a croissant.. but I see you beat me to it." A small smile graced her strawberry kissed lips as she nodded towards his mug, which was dangerously close to overflowing from the amount of liquid which had been generously tipped into it.

"Oh come on.." he laughed outright, not thinking about the fact that maybe she'd be a little hurt about him laughing at her, that she'd think that he thought her stupid for suggesting such a thing. "You know I don't do mocha.. or croissants.. but coffee.. coffee I do.." he smirked, raising the dull chocolate brown coloured porcelain cup to his lips and taking a huge gulp, allowing the heat of it to sear the back of his throat, the bitter taste awakening his taste buds and driving any ounce of sleepiness he held straight back down to the depths of his soul, the non-sweetened elixir acting as an adrenaline boost for him.

"Grab yourself a cup.." he motioned to the cupboard, suddenly placing his own mug on the counter top of the island in front of him. "I'm gonna go wash up and change." He nodded towards the door which led into his corridor, leading the small way to the bathroom and master bedroom. He stepped off, light feet padding the wooden flooring of his home, stopping only a snapshot moment as he poked Claire playfully in the ribs, before chuckling as she squealed, walking off with a shake of his head.

"I think I'll skip the coffee.." she shouted back to him from the kitchen, reaching across and picking up the cold item, swirling Peter's almost full cup of coffee in her hands, the potent smell almost causing dizzying effects all of its own without her having to actually drink it. "What is it anyway?" she asked sarcastically before answering her own question. "Tar.." she teased, pausing briefly before continuing. "Also known as.. Boy Coffee.." she finished, her tone taking on a sing song quality as she pretended to be all sweetness and light, an angelic halo almost appearing above her head of luscious locks. She could hear the tinkle of his laughter swimming through the air from his bathroom as the tap ran.. the sound which made her sigh with delight.

She couldn't have wished for a better outcome. She could never have even predicted that the boyish wonder with a curtain haircut and lopsided smirk who had once told her that life got better after high school would not only save her life from a murderous monster, but would also become such a huge part of her existence, his brother her biological father.. and what a special family they made indeed. Each had their own talent.. but as far as Claire was concerned, Uncle Pete's was the best. He could do it all.. be it all.. the good and the bad and still have enough love in his caring heart to blanket the world three times over. Fate had not been easy on the youngest Petrelli sibling, and yet he managed so valiantly, a hero in every sense of the word, and her father.. Nathan.. he had earned his own title. He had saved the world, he had become the knight in shining armour on a white steed that Claire had only ever dreamed about when a child.. when she felt different from the rest.. set apart and unique.. alien amongst her class friends.. her cheering squad. Those days now seemed almost laughable.

She allowed herself to linger on those thoughts a moment, or maybe more, her heart swelling at how lucky she was almost to the point where she thought it would surely burst out of her chest, her gaze misty and far away as she stared into the cup, deep within the black abyss of the overpowering substance, a subconscious grin planted on her face.

"What are you doing?" She heard his voice as though it were far away, reaching to her through a fog and dragging her back into clarity, the mist slowly ebbing back to the edges of her wandering mind. She looked towards him, unaware of how long she had been daydreaming and how he had even come to be in the room, completely washed and dressed and ready to set about the day, go on that visit they'd organised. He seemed to watch her tentatively, a comforting smile from his face lighting up the room and warming her inside and out.

"Waiting for you.." she huffed playfully. "What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked rhetorically, a childish smile gracing her eyes. "You take longer than a girl to get ready, Uncle Pete." She finished, punching him playfully on the arm before jumping down off the seat, walking round to pick up her bag and watch him as she swung the strap over her and put one arm through it.

"Uh I think not." His voice turned into a high pitched girlish ring, batting his long eyelashes and flicking his head to the side, trying to get the long bangs out of his sight in a valley girl manner, jutting out one hip and placing his hands upon the slight curvature of his body in an effeminate manner. It made her laugh, but she knew that deep down he was only doing it to indulge her.. Peter was not nearly so cheerful these days.

"Come on Patricia.." she teased, moving towards the door, her hands catching the yale lock latch before he'd even stepped off from his spot, his hands reaching for the light jacket which hung just near his front door. "Dr Mohinder Suresh is a busy man.. he won't wait forever.. and neither will the others.." she mused, walking out of the apartment before he had even managed to swing his jacket over one shoulder.


	2. Evolution

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything HEROES related.. although I wish I did.. no.. that good feeling belongs to the genius Tim Kring and his compadres.

**A/N:** I'm sorry this took so long.. school has been murder lately!! Please read and review.. and if it sucks.. then err lemme know!!

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__'They're here. Among us. In the shadows. In the light. Everywhere. Do they even know yet?'_

_**- Dr. Mohinder Suresh**__ (Genesis)_

_**Chapter 2:**__ Evolution (n.) Theory of Development_

He looked at the picture, his eyes distant and hazy, staring at it as though trying to illicit some kind of reaction from it, but he gained no response. The picture merely looked back, the eyes blank and void of all emotion. It depicted a happier time in his life, albeit not one he remembered.. albeit not one he had outwardly existed in. But it brought Mohinder some comfort and joy, the smiling faces of his parents and the sister he had never met, Shanti, staring back at him, his mother pregnant and awaiting the arrival of another child.. a sibling who would be her Shanti's hero. Mohinder had been that hero.. but as is the case for some heroes, he had arrived a little too late. He hadn't even managed to do that right, to please his father even at his birth. Even as a baby he had failed him.

He allowed his fingers to momentarily touch the glass the picture was encased behind in its gilded frame, caressing the face of the girl he had never known, the sister he had never really had. He felt deprived, the lack of the sheer presence of her in his life angered him in a way. But what angered him the most was the sudden lack of his father's presence in his life. Days had passed into weeks and now weeks into months and still.. months later and Mohinder, bearing the heavy burden of his father's genome project research on his shoulders, still didn't know how to cope.. how to adapt.. how to evolve.

He gave a heavy sigh, suddenly placing the picture face down on the desk he sat at in his New York apartment. In the run up to this meaningful day he had distracted himself by giving the place a lick of paint, hiding the previously dilapidated state of the walls. He'd papered over the deep cracks in the surface just like he had the ones in his life, shielding them from the view of the naked eye.

He turned to stare at his computer screen but he needn't have done. The list of names in white on a black backdrop was etched into the inside of his mind. He could reel off every single last detail of the people on that list without ever having to be prompted by visual memory. He raised a hand to run through his hair, his elbow resting against the hard wood of his desk, the cool temperature of the surface working its way through his shirt sleeve to grace his skin, twirling a pen absently in the other hand, allowing the stillness of the apartment to simply wash over him, bathe him in the feeling of there being no urgency whatsoever.. there was nothing to do but simply wait, nothing to do but listen and relax.

It felt strange.

He hastily threw the pen back onto the desk, a frown creasing his brow, ebony curls falling into the line of his vision. When had he last had time to just.. think?? When had he last been able to simply exist, in unison with the universe, rather than fighting against it? He couldn't remember the last time he had had time to relax. It seemed like he had almost never had the chance. It seemed as though any previous encounter with relaxation had simply been a dream which was long over and now felt foreign to him.

He placed both hands on the arms of his seat, palms up to face the ceiling, cupping his hands as he allowed himself to drift along, alone in a sea of endless silence, the humming of his computer the only sound which was carried upon a breath of fresh air. If he concentrated enough he could even block that out, his mind ignoring the simplicity of that sound, that never ending whining of mechanics whirring.. if he concentrated hard enough on the nothingness of this alternate peaceful plane he so wished was real, allowed himself to become hypnotized by the swirling pattern on the surface of the mahogany desk, he could even almost ignore the repeated noise of the buzzer at his door which alerted him to a visitor..

Almost..

He jumped up suddenly, almost upsetting his chair as he threw it away from his body by striking it with the back of his knees, pushing it away from the edge of the desk he had been sat at, his hands suddenly clammy as he fiddled with the top button of his crisp white shirt, his beige pants fitting him loosely as he had adjusted them with the aid of a brown leather belt, his brown leather shoes completing his look. Nothing said professional like good first impressions, although this was hardly the first time they would be meeting. But it was the first time that they were meeting without the urgent matter of saving the cheerleader.. or saving the world.

He rushed to the door, wrenching it open hard as it had taken to sticking just slightly lately. He'd have to get the landlord to look at it. But those were mundane things of everyday life.. of ordinary life and he dismissed them on such an extraordinary day and in such extraordinary company.

"Doco-tor Sur-esh?" the meek voice asked as the childish stare peered up at him from behind childish glasses, a keen sense of excitement emanating from the character before him. The person seemed to almost lapse into a different state of being. Like he had simply stepped out of an outlandish and farfetched children's story, ready to save the day whilst appearing to have done so by simple error or by chance, having stumbled upon the solution. The unlikely hero.

"Hiro? Hiro Nakamura.. the time and space continuum breaker?" Mohinder asked, proffering his hand in Hiro's direction for him to take a hold of and shake it in greeting. The moment Hiro's skin touched his, Mohinder's flesh felt alive with the sudden realisation that this was it.. the people his father had sought out and found would come together and learn of what they were, knowing they had powers, but now they'd have some form of answers to their impossible questions. Or at least he hoped to offer them the knowledge that they were not a small and elite group.. whilst they were special individuals.. exceptional even, there could have been thousands out there, roaming the earth amongst all the other ordinary people who conducted their day to day lives in ignorance. Oblivious to the fact that they were living in an era where man was finding ways to adapt, like a chameleon, to its ever changing environment.

"Yes.." Hiro spoke slowly and efficiently, articulating his English words with pain staking precision. "Hiro break space/time continuum to arrive he-ya!" he exclaimed excitedly, his skin almost aglow with excitement and pride. "Travel by flying machine.." he stopped a moment, his face adopting a confused manner about it, frown creases appearing on his forehead, making the boyish face with cute slanted eyes appear older than his years.

He extended his arms to the side suddenly, the gesture making Mohinder almost flinch in surprise. "Neeeeoooowwwwww!" he motioned, indicating an aircraft in flight. It seemed he was unsure whether he had the right words in the right phrase, but Mohinder had obviously understood him fine the first time. Hiro stopped abruptly, his arms flapping back down to his side and Mohinder noticed he was clutching a comic in his hand, the last ever comic that had gone to print on behalf of Isaac Mendez. Mohinder knew that Hiro had an affinity for that particular comic.

"Travel by flying machine.. very expensive.. very slow.. but more so.. very boring!" he finished his previous conversation, his eyes widening as he tried to convey his meaning and the look on his face caused Mohinder to nod exuberantly in reply, allowing a chuckle of understanding to escape over his lips.

It seemed that Hiro had worked out the benefits of his powers, weighing up the pros and cons and he appeared to be happy to live as an extraordinary man amongst ordinary people. He held no grandiose ideas about himself or his abilities, he didn't intend on attempting to take over the world and claim his greatness, wielding it over millions of frightened and cowering people.

The lowly cockroach..

It would have seemed rude had Mohinder voiced this opinion aloud but he meant that in the nicest of ways. After all, how many times had Mohinder now lectured about the lowly cockroach being made in God's image? Too many to recount or remember.

"Please, Mr. Naka-" but Hiro held up a hand, gesturing for him to stop abruptly, silencing him immediately, a friendly and serene smile on his face.

"Hiro." He offered with a bow, unwilling to hear anyone call him Mr. Nakamura when they possibly knew more about his existence than even he did. That title belonged to his father.

"Okay. Won't you come in, Hiro?" He stepped aside, making way on the threshold of his door to allow Hiro to pass by him into the apartment which had once been rented by the Dr. Suresh that everyone seemed to search, only to find that his son occupied both his living quarters and his professional spot in the wake of his unfortunate demise. "I dare say we cannot conduct this meeting on my doorstep. Can I take your coat? A bag?" A genuine smile tugged at his lips as Hiro, with his naivety and seeming innocence, strode past him, eyeing the apartment fervently.

"Hiro travel light. Like real Hero. He bring no bag and no coat." He looked about him, showing that he was, in fact, luggage free. It was amusing Mohinder to say the least.

"Very well. Come through to my study, Hiro. We shouldn't be alone for much longer." He strode down the hallway in the direction of the study, gesturing for Hiro to walk alongside him as he thrust his hands into the pockets of his beige pants.

"Does it feel strange?" he blurted out, no longer able to control himself. He'd been a sceptic to start with, but having witnessed these things first hand, being someone similar to them himself, it was hard for him to hold back his excitement. They were on the cusp of some enigmatic shift in science and creation. Man, as they knew it, was becoming something more tangible, more real with extraordinary powers which enabled him to draw closer to his creator, enabled him to utilize more of their minds than ever before. But the question seemed to have confused Hiro, who was suddenly caulking his head to the side slightly, peering at the good doctor.

"To travel through time I mean?" Mohinder explained, aware that he had perhaps lacked the tactic of thoroughly conveying his thoughts and ideas. "Does it feel.. different when you do.. whatever it is you do?" He questioned. He wasn't sure what the effects would be on someone who had such a power as Hiro's. He had only ever imagined, in his wildest dreams, the opportunities which were open to someone who held such power.

"Space time continuum very strange.." Hiro explained, gaining confidence in his English as he went. It seemed as though Mohinder was as fascinated with Hiro as Hiro was with him. "I do not feel anything.. but it is very.. dangerous." He continued, gesturing wildly with his hands as they reached the study and Mohinder pointed out a seat for him.

Hiro sat without even breaking eye contact with Mohinder. He felt elated to have been given the chance to ask questions and receive some form of answers. His father only insisted that Hiro would learn, in time, how he had come to receive such a destiny and how he would fulfil it. But it would happen when God willed it to. Hiro, however, was tired of waiting. It seemed that God came in the form of Mohinder.

"If Hiro is not careful.." He shook his head slowly, his accent thick and prominent in his English. "Hiro do more.." but he paused a moment, looking towards Mohinder, searching for something. "How do you say? Damage? Hiro do more damage than good!" he exclaimed, running an index finger horizontally across his neck, indicating a fate which he graciously did not want to meet. "Hiro can change history, which mean Hiro can change future!" He finished, placing elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, looking towards Mohinder with a puppy dog stare, the kind which seemed to demand sympathy and pity from even the most cold hearted human being. The power he had been chosen to bare seemed quite a burden. The ability to move through space and time was one of the strongest Mohinder had researched. It was also perhaps one of the more harmful ones. But not for the barer, but for society. Hiro held the power to change the paths of many, not just his own.

"It must be difficult." Mohinder empathized, leaning forward in his seat as he placed his elbows on the desk in front of him. He was finding it increasingly hard to not stare rudely at Hiro, but Mohinder found his gaze captured by the sheer lack of confidence or arrogance in the young man before him that he simply could not tear his chocolate orbs from wandering over the characters features.

"Father say 'Man afraid of destiny is man not worthy of destiny'.. our culture frowns upon fear and weakness.. it is not the way we do battle." Hiro murmured, his Japanese accent vivid in his mumble, and he was sure that somewhere deep down, his father could not be so callous as to expect a constant fight from his son. But if that side of his father existed, then the hard faced man did a fine job of suppressing it.

Mohinder, unfortunately, could relate. Only too well in fact and the thought tugged at his heartstrings, making him even more sympathetic to Hiro's plight. His father had been all about lack of fear, lack of emotion.

The scientist with the heart of stone..

Mohinder was most definitely not that scientist and he was constantly reminded by the fact that so many people seemed hell bent on thrusting his father's most risqué work right under his nose, claiming that they were the people his father's research spoke of. The chosen ones. 'The Evolved' as Mohinder had taken to calling them.

He opened his mouth to speak, attempting to draw attention to the fact that Hiro was not alone in this strange concept of father's pride/son's shortcomings game that he had been bundled into. A man wished only to be proud of a son, take satisfaction in the fact that the boy who had just won the relay race was his offspring, the teenager who had just left high school with a complete scholarship was his child, the man who had just graduated with a first class degree in Genetics was his son and heir. He would one day inherit his father's earth, along with any honour his father could bestow upon his name. Mohinder had been that boy, that teenager and that man. Yet the scientist with the heart of stone refused to let his concrete exterior crumble. Even in the end, Mohinder had felt a failure.

He was saved the awkwardness of the conversation taking a personal turn by the renewed sound of buzzing breaking through the still air between them.

Mohinder gave a sigh, offering Hiro a small comforting smile as he got up at once, fixing his trousers and undoing his cuff buttons, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Maybe it was best if the meeting was kept as relaxed as possible and judging by Hiro's attire, simple black combat pants and grey short sleeved tee over a black three quarter sleeve length top it was obvious that there was no need to dress to impress. Mohinder let that relief wash over him. He always felt stuffy in a shirt, like he couldn't breathe.

"Excuse me for a second Hiro." He excused himself, leaving the young man lost amongst pensive thoughts.

He hastened to his door, wrenching it open, inquisitive and eager hawk like stare peering out of his door to face the newcomers.

D.L. Hawkins stood, a tower of a man with his six foot odd stance, deliciously intimidating appearance the complete opposite to his warm hearted and caring nature, only apparent by the bright and sunny smile he offered Mohinder as he opened his door.

"I would have phased through.. But I thought it a bit rude." D.L. grinned, his gritty voice guttural and low. Mohinder couldn't help but chuckle, well aware that D.L. was most certainly right. He could have opened the door himself and saved Mohinder a heap of trouble having to come to the door to open it for him.

"You should have!" Mohinder exclaimed, proffering a hand towards the man on the threshold of his home, a welcoming smile tugging at pillows of soft flesh at his mouth, his eyes bright and starry. "Now if only all of my research subjects could phase through solid matter!" He laughed, now proffering his hand to the woman who stood beside D.L.

Her long locks were a luscious colour of the sun, tumbling to the small of her back, her form slender and petite, accented by a simple pencil line black dress, a smirk tugging at rosied lips. She took Mohinder's hand, her eyes searching his almost as though hungry to devour him.

"Now.. is it Niki or Jessica?" Mohinder grinned, narrowing his eyes as he peered at her. "Either one, I won't tangle with. I'm sure there's a few walls you could push me through around here." He joked, trying to keep things airy and light.

"It's Niki." She confirmed, her smile softening as she caulked her head slightly to the side, allowing loose tousled locks to drape over her shoulder. "It's lovely to meet you properly Dr. Suresh." Her look warmed him to her, the obvious comfort and care in her voice. "Thank you so much for what you did for our family three months ago." She remembered only too well how Suresh had taken care of D.L. albeit in passing after he had been shot.

"It was nothing. The contrary in fact. The pleasure was all mine." He shrugged his shoulders, grateful that for once it was his talent being praised and not his father's work. "In fact, thank you so much for coming. Las Vegas is a fair cry away from here. How was your trip?" He questioned looking from one to the other and then back again, stepping aside for them to come through to his comfy abode.

There seemed a slight tension between the couple, one each of their hands pressed on each shoulder of the small boy which accompanied them. Micah, with his curious gaze glancing up at Mohinder, deliciously sweet puppy dog eyes matched by a deliciously sweet smile.

"Hey there little man." Mohinder ruffled the boy's locks in a slight humorous fashion, offering him a smile in return for his own. "Come through. I have refreshments for the boring adults and exciting snacks for the truly spectacular and exciting people." He side passed the boy a wink, ushering them indoors and out of the corridor. "I'll just be a moment. Follow the hall straight down and you'll reach my study." He explained, gesturing for them to go ahead without him. "There's someone already here. I'll give him the chance to introduce himself."

Niki and D.L. nodded in agreement, their eyes meeting briefly before they moved in the direction they were given, Micah hot on their heels with one last glance towards Mohinder, who was watching their retreating backs thoughtfully.

The sudden knock at his door brought him out of his reverie, making him almost jump out of his skin as the sound penetrated into his consciousness.

He reached for the lock instinctively, watching his fingers fiddle with it mindlessly before peering out to see which of the extraordinary folk had darkened his doorstep.

"Mohinder, where were you? Took you long enough to answer the door." Peter Petrelli's voice was like smooth silk, his trademark corner twitching smirk placed upon delicate lips, which nature had decided should be a tad more feminine just to add an allure to him which seemed to sparkle from within. He was not his brother. The macho fashion which graced the elder Petrelli brother seemed to have skipped the youngest and most mercifully indeed. The softness of his looks seemed to enchant people, warm them to him. He was handsome without knowing it, smart without appreciating it, modest and polite in the most delightful of ways.

"Peter." Mohinder breathed out, the softest of whispers carried upon a breeze. A natural smile fell to his lips, capturing a moment as he reached out and drew Peter into a brotherly hug, clapping him on the back.

Mohinder had grown fond of Peter in the way that someone cares for someone as a dear friend, as extended family without ever actually having to spend all that much time in their company for that feeling to exist.

"Please come in, don't stand out here for too long." He moved away from Peter placing a delicate kiss upon Claire's cheek, the girl's presence having not been overlooked by him. They had met up a few times previously, the pair having a fair few questions to ask which Mohinder could not provide answers to.

He walked through his own front door, confident that the two would follow him.

"Leave the door open. Matt should be arriving shortly with Molly and a heavily pregnant Janice, I dare say." He mused, meandering to the kitchen for a moment, indicating for them to follow in his footsteps. He could have done with some help with those refreshments.

The pair did as instructed, Claire pulling her bag over her shoulder and hanging it up on a nearby coat peg, shrugging her light jacket off her form, gesturing for Peter to do the same before following Mohinder. They could hear him tinkering with delicate bone china in the kitchen, the distinct whistling of a kettle ringing louder in Peter's ears than it would in any other normal person's. Mohinder was back to his old tricks of brewing Peppermint tea for visitors whenever he wanted to avoid something.

"You're running a little late." He commented without even looking towards them, head bent low as he picked up the kettle off the stove and pouring a little water into small cups. The thing took forever to boil so avoiding things by making tea was always a plausible excuse.

"Blame Peter." Claire muttered with a smirk, side passing her uncle a 'told you so' look. She jutted out one of her hips, hand resting upon it. Her delicate features glistened, her obvious like for being right brimming in her eyes.

Mohinder turned to look at them, resting his behind against the counter top of the cupboard, his arms crossing against his chest, one of his legs crossing over the other and caulking his head to the side.

"This is going to change everyone's life and perspective, isn't it?" Mohinder questioned bluntly, chewing his bottom lip as he pondered over the possibility of how unethical this could prove to be. What happened to anonymity? Or perhaps confidentiality? Was this all forgotten in the haste to progress man's ability?

He didn't know. He'd put this discussion off as far back as he could remember after their discovery. But he couldn't keep them hidden from themselves forever. He couldn't stand in the way of natural progression simply because it put a few people's lives out of sync. These people had been blessed not cursed. They had been chosen.

"There isn't a choice Mohinder. It's something that has to be done. It's too late to turn back now. Some of these people are sitting in your study." It was almost as though Peter were reading his mind. Although, perhaps he was. Mohinder couldn't tell.

"You're right." He exhaled a sigh, suddenly finding that he had kept his breath locked in his chest after asking his straight question, unaware that he had tensed so completely that it had almost become impossible to breathe. He turned, picked up the tray and walked past them, out of the kitchen and into the study, leaving them both perplexed in his wake.

Peter looked at Claire who shrugged her slender shoulders, gesturing her head for them to follow, picking up another tray with juice and goodies for the kids. By the time they reached the study, Matt Parkman, his wife and his impending family had already arrived.

Everyone sat in their seats, watching each other without actually saying anything. Only Peter and Matt were privy to people's thoughts in these moments of silence. Thoughts of contemplation, of innocent curiosity. Fear, excitement and a sense of finally getting somewhere overcame them and Peter had to temporarily look away for fear of openly staring at all of them in turn.

Claire set the tray down beside the tea tray on Mohinder lavish desk, motioning for Molly and Micah to take their drink if they wanted, her own hands nimbly picking up a tea cup and sitting down beside Hiro.

"Peter." Hiro was the first to talk, a strange and curious gaze taking place upon his features. "Peter Petrelli. Is this cheerleader?" He glanced towards Claire who sat beside him, watching her and absorbing her features almost as though he had never seen a girl before.

She squirmed slightly uncomfortably in her seat, slouching down a little and taking a sip of her peppermint tea. The slurping sound seemed to break the ice, everyone suddenly reaching for one of their own cups, Mohinder watching in polite silence before he broke the moment.

"I'm sure you've all heard about each other at some stage. Maybe some more than others." He indicated to Niki, D.L. and Micah. "Hiro," he pointed him out with a nod, gesturing to everyone that this was Hiro, the time traveller, although Peter had already met this Hiro, or 3 months past Hiro, and future Hiro who had warned him about saving the cheerleader. Mohinder had not believed him. The thought made slight resentment rise up in Peter, which he attempted to quash immediately.

"Claire, Peter, Matt, Janice, Molly, Micah, Niki and D.L." He listed them off like they were mere numbers on a list, nodding his head in their direction every time he mentioned one of them. Maybe in reality they were.

"Where's Nathan?" Niki questioned, without thought as to why this would seem abnormal in some way, the fact that she knew Peter's brother by name.

Peter stared at her hard, the question weighing down upon his shoulders. His brows furrowed together, a slight pang at his heart strings. D.L. was looking towards her with similar confusion on his face.

"Nathan.." the name tumbled off of Peter's lips like a whisper, barely audible in the room which threatened to echo it a thousand times until he broke down in anguish. He gained confidence a moment, gathering his thoughts. He had expected this to come up somehow and at some point. But not from Niki. Maybe Hiro.

"Nathan's been sectioned." He said bluntly, not offering a reason for the explanation. He didn't think this was the right time to be going into details. It was hard enough with all of New York thinking that Congressman Petrelli had lost his mind.

Claire seemed to shrink in her seat, the phrase hitting her like a ton of bricks and making her seem more like a little girl than ever before.

It was Mohinder who broke the awkward silence. "Perhaps we should talk about why you're all here. I've been tracking the gene through the genome project. It's taken months to locate others like yourselves and even then I've only been able to find a few of them. But with every find it seems that I've miscalculated my estimation of how many of you there actually are. Unfortunately it seems that some of them have been discovered by someone my father assumed was a friend. He's now taking credit for my father's work." Mohinder sounded more than faintly bitter, the words, like acid, seared the back of his throat. It seemed that Chandra and Mohinder Suresh trusted a little too freely and a little too easily.

"It looks as though we are caught on the brink of another major shift in Evolution. Whilst it usually takes years for man to evolve, something is causing it to happen more rapidly. Every generation," he indicated to Janice, the swelling of her rounded tummy drawing his attention and everyone else's, causing her to place a protective motherly hand to her bump. "Seems stronger than the one before it, which is to be expected. Except, by all intent and purpose, the shift should only be minor." He became animated now, the excitement of the possibilities suddenly awakening in him and bringing every emotion and expression to life with an abundance of light to shine through.

"Recently," he suddenly placed down his cup, reaching for documents upon his desk, his fingers trembling as he sifted through them. "A mother with the power of projection introduced me to her child. The child had one of the strongest powers I've seen. Not only could she project but she also had the ability to clone herself at will, to literally split herself in two before my very eyes. She gained control over her powers so easily at such a young age. The child is a mere four years old." He explained, his eyes widening in disbelief at it all.

"What does this mean for my child?" Janice blurted out, her voice suddenly panic stricken. Her eyes searched Mohinder's desperately before turning worried gaze upon Matt who instinctively reached for the hand placed upon her bump.

"I'm not sure what it means for your child Janice." The utter honesty resonated deep within Mohinder's very soul. "I can't be certain until he or she manifests their power, if indeed they have one. The likelihood of it is extremely likely. Mother Nature seems to be building a new army to protect her earth and with Matt having a power there doesn't seem much chance that your child won't have one of its own. But it isn't a bad thing. Look to Micah and Molly to prove that to you." He gestured towards the two with a hand.

"Hold up." Peter stepped between Mohinder and the rest of the group, holding the scientists gaze before looking over his shoulder at the rest of them. "You don't know any of this for certain Mohinder."

Mohinder shook his head gently from side to side, obviously disagreeing with Peter on a very fundamental level. "I do, Peter."

"No you don't." Peter insisted, his tone adamant and frank. "You said her mother had the power of projection, right?" he asked in an off handed manner. The question was obviously rhetorical and yet Mohinder knew, before Peter had even finished his thought, exactly where the younger Petrelli was headed with this line of logic. He didn't interrupt, allowing the younger man to ride out the wave so to speak.

"If she inherited her mother's power then she could project something she thought you'd like to see, an illusion of a second her. It wouldn't be impossible for her to do so. Not with that power." He shrugged his shoulders, his obvious demeanour triumphant. "The truth is, she could be no more powerful than the rest of us here. Maybe this is as powerful as the human race is destined to become."

Mohinder studied him for a moment, perching himself upon the desk and crossing one leg over the other.

"A projector of illusion." He began, his tone steady and slow, trying to choose his words carefully. "They use their power to impress their existence upon another being. They do it for the fun or the fear of their audience. They cannot cast an illusion for their own enjoyment alone. An illusion, a lot like beauty, therefore, is strictly in the eye of the beholder."

He looked to them, his soft chocolate brown eyes lingering on each one in turn. None of them dared even breathe. It seemed as though Mohinder had captured his audience, weaving a web of storytelling. Except this was no fictional story. His father had stumbled upon the saving grace of mankind.

"Initially, I though the same thing as you did Peter.. it was her obvious power of projection which had managed to ensnare me. I told her mother as much. But as I was leaving, we heard two voices from her playroom. She'd cloned herself to give herself a playmate. She had no idea we were even there, no idea what it was that I would have liked to see. Her mother explained that she'd been doing it a lot more, recently. According to her, her daughter was finding it difficult to make friends at school. So, she'd done what those of her race are destined to do. Adapt." He shrugged his shoulders as he slowly began pacing at the front of his desk, an obvious smile tugging at handsome lips.

"Her instincts told her she couldn't become socially segregated and so she did what came naturally to her. Interacting with another her, which when cast, acted independently from her to some degree, had her own ability to speak, feel, think and move just as well as she did, was obviously the next best thing. That is not merely the power of illusion. That is something that none of our research has yet come across." he finished, almost proud of himself.

"You all have to understand why you're here. My research takes up a lot of my time, most of which is spent behind this desk, at my computer. It's too wide spread for me to work this alone now. I need your help." Mohinder's voice sounded pleading, begging almost. "If we are to really make a dent in the population of the evolved we have to work this as a team. I do the research. Track them down. You help convince them. Show them your powers. Show them the good that can be done."

This idea had occurred to Mohinder, based upon a personal experience, albeit one which was unfortunate and which he was not about to share with the rest. Unknowingly, he'd seen Sylar at work, convincing another with powers to speak to Suresh. He knew how persuasive a personal experience could be to another who thought they were alone.

"Call it a Mission of sorts. Call it what you will." He gestured frantically, suddenly thrusting the file in his hand at Peter, his gaze holding the young New Yorkers for moments, gently coaxing him into opening the file and allowing his curiosity to be satisfied.

"No." Niki's voice rang clear, her gaze almost fearful and determined at the same time. "This isn't something I want to be involved in. This isn't something I want my family involved in." She shook her head, luscious locks swinging from side to side, framing her gentle yet strong features, her glistening blue orbs brimming with lucidity.

"Niki," his voice was soft and gentle. Mohinder understood her fear, her reluctance to use her powers.

"No Mohinder." She stood her ground, suddenly rising to her feet and placing her cup upon a nearby stand. "The last time I was involved in a mission my husband almost died, my son was kidnapped and made to use his powers for someone else's gain. Jessica killed people. I.." she stopped a moment, her voice faltering. "I killed people." She almost breathed out, her voice hardly within hearing range. "I do not want that on my conscience again."

She made her way over to Micah, setting him on his feet with effortless ease, her hands resting on his shoulders in a motherly fashion as she looked to D.L. Her message was clear: 'We're leaving.' Her eyes were boring into his. Her lips were set tight and thin. Her cheeks were flushed from her sudden outburst. She grasped her son's hand, briskly walking him in the direction of the door, more than aware that no one was attempting to stop her. They were either too stunned or too scared. For those who had seen what she could do it was more likely to be the latter.

"We're staying." D.L.'s voice stopped her in her tracks as it followed her down the hall, her hand frozen as it reached for the door latch, seeking its release and her freedom, which never came, her eyes closed as she gave a heavy sigh. She didn't want to fight.. not anymore. Not in front of Micah and perfect strangers. But D.L. was making things increasingly hard for her and Micah's pleading look was not helping any either. She dropped her hand, a loving smile gracing her face as her eyes flickered open, her hand reaching out and caressing her young son's cheek, allowing her knuckles to graze baby soft flesh. All he wanted was to be a superhero. All he wanted was to help people and have his parents there to do the same. How could she deny him that? His dream seemed far-fetched to many but it was so possible for him. She released his hand, watching him as he walked backwards in the direction of the way they had come, his eyes still pleading her to follow. Her heart tugged and her limbs moved without her even realising that they were doing so.

"I have rules." She stated as she walked in, crossing her arms across her chest as she stood in the doorway. "He doesn't stay up past ten p.m." she joked, her head caulking to the side as everyone suddenly laughed. The ice had been broken and the pact had been made.. it seemed as though Niki had made the decision for everyone..


End file.
